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I think it will be a miracle if I don't someday end up killing myself.

Anne Sexton

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Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Killing
Miracle
Ends
Think
Thinking
Someday
Suicide

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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I have a black look I do not like. It is a mask I try on. I migrate toward it and its frog sits on my lips and defecates.
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I am teaching... This year it's kind of like having a love affair with a rhinoceros.
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Let there be seasons so that our tongues will be rich in asparagus and limes.
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I leave you, home, when I'm ripped from the doorstep by commerce or fate. Then I submit to the awful subway of the world.
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I am alone here in my own mind. There is no map and there is no road. It is one of a kind just as yours is.
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Abundance is scooped from abundance yet abundance remains.
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Even without wars, life is dangerous.
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I'm hunting for the truth. It might be a kind of poetic truth, and not just a factual one, because behind everything that happens to you, there is another truth, a secret life.
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Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem.
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I was the girl of the chain letter, the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes, the one of the telephone bills, the wrinkled photo and the lost connections.
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There is rust in my mouth,the stain of an old kiss.
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I sit at my desk each night with no place to go, opening the wrinkled maps of Milwaukee and Buffalo, the whole U.S., its cemeteries, its arbitrary time zones, through routes like small veins, capitals like small stones.
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As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a small cough. Even a small love.
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Don’t worry if they say you’re crazy. They said that about me and yet I was saner than all of them. I knew. No matter. You know. Insane or sane, you know. It’s a good thing to know - no matter what they call it.
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Give me your skin as sheer as a cobweb, let me open it up and listen in and scoop out the dark.
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All considerations for these human remains! They must have an escort! They are classified!
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the heart, this child of myself that resides in the flesh, this ultimate signature of the me, the start of my blindness and sleep, builds a death crèche.
Anne Sexton
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You cutting the lawn, fixing the machines, all this leprous day and then more vodka, more soda and the pond forgiving our bodies, the pond sucking out the throb.
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I was only sitting here in my white study with the awful black words pushing me around.
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Don't bite till you know if it's bread or stone.
Anne Sexton